


Stay and Play

by garrisonbabe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, Domestic, Dominant Castiel, Established Relationship, M/M, Makeup, Panty Kink, Photography, Polyamory, Rimming, Submissive/Bottom Dean, Submissive/Bottom Samandriel, Threesome - M/M/M, Video
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-08 00:32:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garrisonbabe/pseuds/garrisonbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel knew his boys were good, but he'd never expected anything like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay and Play

**Author's Note:**

> Tons of thanks to my lovely beta [cjlxx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cjlxx) ([ballsdeepinsamwinchester](http://ballsdeepinsamwinchester.tumblr.com)), who looked this over after I finally went to sleep last night. You rock.
> 
> This is a gift to the very talented [tallybird](http://tallybird.tumblr.com), who graced me with the first piece of samandestiel fanart and made me a very happy camper. Anyway, hope you all enjoy!

Castiel opened the door to his home and was greeted by something rather unusual, silence. Normally either Samandriel or Dean were doing something to make a bit of noise. Maybe Dean would be cooking or fixing the pipes, a car, some loose board that Castiel hadn't noticed in the slightest. Samandriel might be off cleaning. But today it was total silence. He wasn't sure if he was unnerved or intrigued.

The kitchen was entirely empty, but the oven had a note stuck to it, so he went over and saw Dean's quick, slanted handwriting on a post-it. _Your dinner's inside, see you in a bit, Cas_. He smiled and pulled the oven open, a wave of heat blowing over his face. Dean had made his favorite, a burger and fries. The bun was in with the food, lightly toasted and the condiments were sitting out next to the fridge.

He ate his dinner in silence, finding it odd to not have at least one of them sitting or kneeling at his feet to share with. Dean had outdone himself with the burger and Castiel wished he was there to receive the praise.

Dinner passed quickly, his plate cleared of food and left on the table for one of the boys to clean whenever they came around. He had some work leftover that would likely be easier to accomplish without the distraction of two extra bodies milling about. It wasn't much, but grading tests was always a little boring and he found himself too easily distracted by Dean and Samandriel. He opened his messenger bag and fished out the last two papers.

A little more than half an hour had gone by when he was finally scratching the last marks on the papers and graded them, replacing them in their folder to be packed away for class the next day. Finals weren't just hell for the students and he was already feeling a bit haggard.

Samandriel and Dean were still nowhere to be found, the house disturbingly quiet. Finally he wandered upstairs after deciding that maybe an active search would be the best approach.

Now, contrary to popular belief, Dean was actually a very obedient man when he wanted to be. All it took was the proper approach. It had been his expectation for Samandriel even back when they were in high school, that bashful smile and the way he almost always went with what Cas wanted. They'd been together for years and meeting Dean in college was like already having a sundae and then having someone shove the keys to a new car into the palm of his hand. Or rather a classic car. A gleaming black 1967 Chevy Impala to be exact.

The transition had been a little odd at first, Samandriel had been jealous of Castiel's attraction to Dean and at the time he had assured his boyfriend that nothing would change, he wouldn't do anything unless Samandriel said he was okay with it. The desire for Dean only grew and as much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't.

After several weeks Samandriel told him to get it out of his system, so he went to Dean to proposition him. In turn Dean had surprised them both by saying he wasn't doing anything unless Samandriel was actually present. The first touch of Dean's tongue to Samandriel's soft hole had been all it took for them to both keep him.

Before Dean, Castiel had tried a few different styles of domination with Samandriel, especially early in college. Experimenting had been par for the course and very, very useful. The problem was that nothing had been entirely satisfying for either of them. They were both in agreement that the harsher, more whip-heavy styles weren't favored. Though more lax styles made their skin itch and before long they'd both fallen back into a constant flow. Some couples could turn it off, some couldn't. He and Samandriel were the latter. That was why Dean had struck him so potently.

Dean, who was all harsh talk and arrogant bravado, who'd kick anyone's ass that really pissed him off. The same man with a classic car handed down by an over-bearing father who'd basically forced Dean to raise his little brother. This man that had grown up too fast and cared too much. Something about him had seemed different from the start and when they worked together for a project he knew he was right.

It was subtle and delicate to handle, but Dean was a sub and he was the kind of sub that made Cas want to lower his voice and speak in constant instruction. Low and steady, always assuring and touching. Whereas Samandriel was likely to take nearly anything Castiel gave within reason, Dean needed to be told he was a good boy. There had been so much potential, so much untapped power and the will to please that Castiel had almost asked him out on a date before remembering the very obvious reason why he couldn't.

Despite his prior reservations, Samandriel readily admitted they were better with Dean. The piece they'd felt was missing for years was finally locked in place. Some seven years later and they were all three still connected, living in a family home passed down to Dean when his uncle Bobby remarried. They'd done well to make it their own. At first Castiel had worried that Dean wouldn't be the same in the old house, so many memories and perceived territory had the potential to make him defiant. Instead Dean had surprised him by coming home with paint chips and asking what would look best in the living room.

Samandriel had grown to love Dean almost as quickly as Castiel had and together the two of them planned and plotted behind his back, buying gifts and orchestrating scenes for him that left him unable to concentrate for days as the memories clung to his conscious mind.

He paused at the top of the stairs and with everything he knew of his two boys, it shouldn't have surprised him when the bedroom light was on, the door cracked just a hair. His steps were quiet against the hardwood, soft creaks from beneath his sock-clad feet the only indication of his movements. There was no noise coming from the bedroom, but the sight that greeted him almost made him want to scream with its intensity.

Dean and Samandriel were kneeling side by side next to the bed, heads bowed just slightly, hands crossed behind their backs. He could clearly see bright pink lipstick on Samandriel's pouty little mouth, glistening so temptingly. The well-defined muscle of Dean's legs was encased in thick black thigh-high stockings, a ruffled lacy, blue and black garter belt hugging his hips and nearly hiding the light blue lace panties beneath that cupped his cock so gently with their flowery pattern.

Under the shining pink pout Samandriel was wearing a pair of white cotton bikini cut panties with a pattern of bees buzzing around and they looked like panties made for a child, even though he'd probably picked out the material and sewn them himself.

The door frame was a Godsend, being that it was literally the only thing holding him up in light of the perfectly made up men kneeling beside their king sized bed. Of course they knew he had come home, knew he was there now blatantly staring but neither of them made any move without his say so.

He was surprised he had a voice at all, even if it was shaking when he spoke. “How long have you been waiting, Samandriel?”

Samandriel looked up at him from under his wheaten blond lashes, a supple smile curling his mouth. “We got into position about ten minutes before you arrived.”

Dean nodded silently, tipping his head up a little to meet Castiel's eyes briefly, just long enough for the eyeliner and mascara to be made obvious.

Castiel was so hard he thought he might pass out, all available blood taking an immediate detour down to his cock. Somewhere it registered that it was fortunate he'd already graded those papers because there was no way in Hell he'd be able to spell, let alone read and remember which subject he was teaching. Not with his boys just waiting for him, their knees likely aching and their fingers fidgeting behind their backs. So good and quiet for him so he could eat and grade in peace.

Dean kept sending him soft little looks, silently asking for permission to speak. “Go ahead, Dean.”

“Happy anniversary, Cas.” The air was all but yanked out of his lungs, cold realization hitting him and making him feel guilty because they remembered, planned something so special and he forgot the most important day of the year for them.

He made a pained face and walked up to them, holding his hands out to them, loving how Dean kissed and licked his fingers without hesitation and Samandriel nosed at his palm to keep his lipstick in place.

“My boys, I can't believe I forgot.” They both looked up at him, concern in their eyes at his sad tone. Both of them opened their mouths to speak, gaping like fish and looking at each other worriedly. He sighed fondly. “Yes, Dean?”

“Cas it's not your fault, finals are coming up you got all those tests to grade, it's okay, we understand.” Dean's words were rushed, stammering over each other as he tried to soothe the man who was the reason he'd spent the better part of fifty minutes kneeling on a scratchy rug over a hardwood floor. Samandriel was also nodding earnestly, soft furrow to his brow and his lower lip sticking out as he frowned like he was some innocent child.

It was then that Castiel noticed the socks, the knee-highs that had been hidden before but were so obvious now, the yellow bow threaded through the top of the white nylon and tied in the back so prettily.

Castiel moaned, almost pained at how gorgeous his boys were. At the very least they deserved what they'd gotten so dolled up for. More than deserved it. “What do you want?”

He heard them speak over each other, Dean's deep rumble of _suck you_ countered by Samandriel's breathy _lick you_. His eyes slipped shut, his chest heaving as he tried to regain some semblance of control. This sight was too good for memory alone, this needed to be honored somehow.

“You'll get it, wait right here.”

The neat button-down dress shirt was nearly torn in his haste to be rid of it, his belt followed, clattering to the floor carelessly. He went over to the closet and pulled it open, finding the black leather bag with _Nikon_ embroidered on the side. The tripod leaned against the wall and he grabbed it in one hand, setting it up in the doorway.

He put the camera perfectly at his eye level, tilting it down to see Dean and Samandriel in the frame. He flipped the switch to the ceiling light on, wanting to use as much readily available light as he could. Turning the ISO up would make the pictures brighter, but also grainy and he wanted everything as perfectly smooth as possible. The remote shutter was already connected, his thumb feeling heavy on the button as he took the test shots.

He was too impatient for perfection, besides that was why he had photoshop. When he was satisfied with the camera's placement he went back over to the closet, grabbing the video camera off of the side wall, tripod and all. It fit perfectly beneath the hulking digital, the lens waist level with him as he flipped the screen over and checked it, hitting record.

Everything was perfect, most of all Dean and Samandriel. He turned to them, his back to the recording equipment and snapped the first actual picture. Soft smiles were ghosting Dean and Samandriel's lips, so eager to please him. The fly of his slacks was undone, the heavy garment falling from his hips and down to the floor. Left only in his boxer briefs he placed himself between them, his ass right in Samandriel's face while his cock made its best effort to spring out and smack Dean in the mouth.

“Remove my underwear, Samandriel, you may use your hands.” Castiel’s voice was smooth, the instruction a low thrum in the air.

Samandriel's slender fingers curled around the waistband, pulling slowly until finally Castiel was naked. Another picture snapped, his heart seeming to skip a beat with the sound of the shutter closing. Dean licked his lips, mouth obviously watering when he swallowed hard. Samandriel's hands were still tickling and trailing tentatively over his thighs, always yearning to touch. The camera sounded again, his fingers twitching to capture every moment he could. Dean could control himself most days, the need not quite so overwhelming for him. At least that was what Castiel assumed. He didn't mind either way, enjoying the little reverent touches from them both.

The moment he gave them the word he knew they'd attack him with their mouths, rendering him incapable of speech, probably buckling his knees under nothing more than his own weight. He took a deep breath, trying to sober himself as much as he could. For all of the control and force he exerted over them, punishing and rewarding, he was entirely enthralled by them. Every show of trust and submission had him so much more entwined with everything they were, both together and apart. Love was such a complicated thing sometimes, but this, here, this was simple and this he could enjoy.

“You can uncross your arms, Dean.” Calloused hands clenched tightly on the top of stocking-covered thighs, waiting. Even Samandriel's hands had gone still, tension stretching further and further until the sound of a picture being taken broke Castiel's reverie and he snapped. “Begin.”

Dean's hands planted themselves on either side of his waist, skilled lips and tongue cradling the head of his cock and beginning to suckle teasingly. He'd expected Samandriel's tongue to lave at him at the first opportunity, for those delicate fingers to spread him wide and his face to be buried in Castiel's ass. Instead he turned to look, skin heating almost too quickly with what was happening.

When he realized what Samandriel was doing he had to resist the urge to laugh, a bit crazed and a bit euphoric. The younger man was cupping his ass in greedy hands, pressing hot pink lip prints to each cheek, smearing the color across his pale skin. He couldn't resist pressing the shutter and holding it down, four pictures taken in the span of a second.

Samandriel was literally _kissing his ass_ on camera, shamelessly on display as he lavished attention on him before finally nosing into his crack and pulling him open. Dean's mouth had sunk half-way down his cock, the rhythmic suckling driving him insane when he finally felt the first dirty press of Samandriel's hot, wiggling tongue against him.

A surprised noise fell out of his mouth, raw and he staggered toward Dean, the engineer's sure hands catching and supporting him. When the camera went off it was only because his hand pressed the remote to Dean's shoulder.

Samandriel was pulling him back greedily, licking around his hole in a constant circle, trying to work the muscle loose. Unfortunately Castiel wasn't really capable of relaxing, both of them driving him out of his damn mind with their enthusiasm. He laughed breathlessly, moaning deeply when Dean began to gently massage his balls, head bobbing slowly. “Oh, my good boys.”

They both groaned at the praise, Samandriel giving soft kitten licks coupled with a gently probing finger that was promising to work him open in spite of the pressure that made him feel like he'd explode. The shutter clicked again, four more times in rapid succession. He hoped it caught the way he bucked into Dean's mouth.

Dean gave some of the best head he'd ever had the exquisite pleasure to experience and no matter where they were or how tired he was, Dean never slacked off. All of his attention went into every lick, every suck and roll of his tongue. There wasn't a single touch out of place, he gave everything, just like he always did. Castiel's thighs were shaking, his hands still scrabbling against Dean's shoulders and arms. One hand got some semblance of sense and went to the back of Dean's skull, pushing him down until he was forced to try and swallow, entirely unable to breathe.

Just like Castiel had hoped, tears were welling up, Dean always over-applying the mascara and creamy liner to make sure it would run and smear. He pulled back before Dean could truly choke, tears beginning to spill, making him throb painfully. His hands itched to smack Dean's ass and thighs, tell him what a good boy he was until he was sobbing, his gorgeous face fucking _ruined_.

“Oh, yes, my gorgeous boy. Will you cry for me, Dean?”

Dean panted once, twice, then dove back down, burying Castiel in his throat. Soft choking and spluttering came from him, the head of Castiel's cock enveloped in gentle fluttering, Dean's struggle to breathe catching right against him.

The green of his eyes stood out more brilliantly as the whites turned bloodshot, tears beginning to flow more thickly, little black streaks running down his skin as he sniffed hard. The camera clicked five times, Castiel not even registering he was holding the button down at first as Dean looked up at him desperately, covetously.

Castiel yanked him back by the hair, jolting when Samandriel began to rub over his prostate with sure fingers, tongue still squirming. Dean coughed, spit coating his lips and running down his chin. The sight pulled another soft moan from him and another depression of the shutter, gently guiding his face back so he could finish. It wasn't going to take much, his balls heavy in Dean's palm and his hole already starting to clench around Samandriel's tongue and fingers.

He was trying to think of anything he could to make it last, the thought of his Uncle Zachariah eating macaroni salad doing the trick as Dean lewdly swirled his tongue around the flushed head of his dick. If the camera hadn't caught that sinfully pink tongue he was going to be pissed.

“My perfect boys, so good for me.”

He could tell Samandriel was scooting closer to him, arm wrapping wantonly around his thigh as his knees brushed inside of Castiel's ankles. Both of their mouths had to have been tiring, jaws and tongues sore but they just kept pushing and sucking and prodding and there was nothing to delay it anymore.

“My pretty boys, you're going to make me come. Do you want that?”

Samandriel nodded against his hole, needy sound swallowed up with his tongue. Dean groaned and met his eyes, parting his legs so Castiel could see the spot of sticky precome on his inner thigh, the head of his cock poking out from under the lace.

“Mmf, fuck! My good boys, so pretty, just like that, yes.” He was barely aware of what he was saying, praises and curses tumbling out of his mouth without his consent. His hips were moving back and forth of their own accord, swaying and thrusting, his legs shaking so badly he was sure the only thing keeping him standing were the men kneeling around him.

“Oh my sweet boys, sweet, perfect little baby boys, fuck, oh, _ohh._ **”** One hand twisted back to yank roughly at Samandriel's hair, his ass sticking out as he dragged him so close his nose was smashed roughly into Castiel's skin. The other clamored for Dean, trying to grab his hair but catching his forearm, the remote shutter control was dropped, forgotten entirely as Dean sucked hard, pulling his orgasm out of him with a sharp cry loud enough that he was glad there weren't any neighbors terribly close by. His legs gave out, arms flailing for a moment as he shook and thought he'd fall.

Instead Samandriel caught him under his legs, Dean stabilizing him as he was lovingly lowered to the floor, a pillow hastily pulled off the bed and put down for him to rest on as he calmed and came back to them. Someone could have come in asking something as basic as what kind of ice cream he wanted and he probably wouldn't recognize it in any of the three languages he spoke fluently.

Dean and Samandriel were pressed close at either side, rubbing over his stomach and legs, trying to calm the tremors. Eventually Samandriel spoke softly, slight sheepishness in his tone. “Castiel?” He grunted his acknowledgment. “C-Can Dean and I—“

“Anything you want, anything.”

They shared an excited smile before Samandriel crawled over him, laying down on his back with his head resting on the meat of Castiel's thigh. It was only now that he saw the sticky mess of smudged pink and drying saliva. Dean yanked the white panties up over the swell of Samandriel's ass, just enough to reach down between his legs and pull out what Castiel hadn't had the chance to see yet. A heavy steel plug came out of the smaller man with a soft gasp, chest filling rapidly as he chewed his lips.

“God, you two are trying to kill me.” He laughed and reached down to pet Samandriel's head, loving the way the smaller man turned into the touch, obviously craving more.

A friend of his, Victor, had once asked why he'd let Dean and Samandriel fuck each other, especially if he wasn't home some days and back then he answered that he trusted them. What he hadn't been able to vocalize was the way that even when they kissed and sucked each other, they both still reached out for him, entirely unable to exclude him from anything if he was there (and as his emails and mobile phone could attest, even if he wasn't). They were his and he was theirs.

Dean pulled a bottle of lube from the bedside table and slicked himself up well, hands trembling with his need as he pulled his panties to the side to free more of himself. The garter belt was ripped and hitched up his stomach in his ever-mounting frustration and Castiel hummed softly, running gentle fingers down his arm to calm him.

Samandriel's legs were hiked over Dean's broad shoulders as he slowly pushed inside, eyes fluttering shut as Samandriel's rolled into the back of his head. Castiel's fingers still toyed with the soft blond hair, scratching gently at the man's scalp almost like he would a well-loved pet. The pace they set was fast to start, both of them more worked up than he had been when he stepped between them.

They moaned, unrestrained and directly in view of the video camera that was still recording. Castiel looked at the camera briefly, smiling knowingly because some time soon they were going to sit down and watch this. Their hands flew out toward him, each of them grabbing one of his to hold for themselves. Dean was so very close, every bit of him shaking as his rhythm faltered. The hand Samandriel wasn't giving to Castiel quickly wrapped around his own cock, jacking roughly. He sobbed in a way that made Castiel coo gently to him as he finished, tears dripping out of the corners of his light blue eyes as he came all over himself. Castiel wanted to take his thumb and wipe them away, but they looked so pretty that he figured he could leave them for a little while.

Dean slammed back in, head thrown back as he growled out _fuck yes_ and came in Samandriel's tight, wet little hole. It was one Castiel had enjoyed numerous times and it was always fun to see Dean get the same.

Their panties were straightened out, slow minutes taken before Dean laid down, careful not to crush Samandriel as the side of his face pressed right into a puddle of come. He snaked his hand between theirs, a sated yawn making Castiel laugh and stretch, slight drowsiness overtaking him as well. They'd need to shower soon for sure, but first he could let them bask in the afterglow, camera catching everything.

“Happy anniversary, my beautiful boys.” They both beamed at him, love and adoration written into every inch of their skin.


End file.
